


Letting Go, Giving In

by halcyon1993



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Barebacking, Beta Derek Hale, Bottom Derek Hale, Claiming, Good Peter Hale, Incest, Knotting, M/M, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Post-Coital Cuddling, Praise Kink, Pre-Canon, Rimming, Scent Kink, Self-Hatred, Top Peter Hale, Uncle/Nephew Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-09-19 07:34:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20327440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halcyon1993/pseuds/halcyon1993
Summary: After Derek runs away from his feelings for his Uncle Peter, thinking them wrong, he nearly loses everything. Will he be able to stop running and overcome his feelings of guilt when Peter is the only one still around to help him pick up the pieces?





	Letting Go, Giving In

**Author's Note:**

> As always with this series, don't judge me for the depravity I have written…

Derek Hale sits in an uncomfortable chair and stares out the window of a private room in Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital, trying to wipe his mind of all thought—especially memories of his past. But it's not always that easy. Every now and then, he'll feel particularly introspective and his mind won't stop assaulting him with all the choices he made that he now deeply regrets. It's like his thoughts are against him, making sure he doesn't forget so he never stops feeling guilty or loathing every fibre of his own being.

Fat chance. There's no way that could ever happen—and to be honest, Derek doesn't even _want_ those feelings to disappear. It wouldn't be fair. He deserves them.

Giving into it, Derek's mind takes him back to where it all started eight years ago, when he was twelve years old.

He'd always been close with his Uncle Peter. While they were twelve years apart, they just got along well, even though Peter was incorrigibly cheeky, cracking dirty jokes or making sly comments specifically tailored to rile up Derek's Mom, Talia, the Hale Pack Alpha. They always made Derek laugh.

As the years progressed and Derek hit puberty, his feelings for Peter changed. Warped. They were no longer innocent, and Derek was ashamed of himself the first time he discovered what his dick was for and he came with Peter's name on his lips. It was so fucking wrong, and if anyone in his family ever found out, they would never look at him the same way. In his young mind, they might've even hated him, so he promised himself he would never act on his misguided feelings. He would bury them deep, deep down and never open that box again for as long as he lived.

With this promise to himself in mind, Derek attempted to distance himself a bit from Peter, hoping it would help, but then things escalated.

He began to notice the way Uncle Peter would look at him in return, with a gleam in his blue eyes that wasn't innocent either. By this time, Derek was approaching his sixteenth birthday and was growing into his body at a rapid pace, getting body hair and developing muscle as he played basketball with friends and visited the local gym from time to time with his older sister, Laura. Peter's heated glances made it much more difficult for Derek to pretend he wasn't wrong inside.

It all came to a head on his birthday, after his party ended and his family were winding down. Peter found him helping himself to another slice of cake in the kitchen and pulled him into a hug.

"Happy Birthday, baby boy," he'd whispered to him.

Being called that, and feeling Uncle Peter's breath on the shell of his ear, sent shivers down Derek's spine. Good shivers. Then, to make matters even worse, he'd felt something against his hip.

Peter was hard. For him.

Derek had pulled back from the embrace and stared at his Uncle with wide eyes. From the expression on Peter's face, if was obvious he was contemplating the pros of kissing Derek, so Derek hightailed it out of the kitchen, his cake forgotten. He distanced himself even further from his Uncle, actively running away from him because he still held on tightly to his conviction that it wasn't right.

And he ran right into the arms of the worst possible person: Kate Argent.

His denial over his feelings for Peter made it easy for her to manipulate him. He was so eager to put them behind him and distract himself with something else—some_one_ else—that all Kate had to do was bat her eyelashes at him a couple times and he was hers. He foolishly gave her everything he could, told her all of his secrets—apart from the one about his attraction to his Uncle—praying it would help him get over Peter. It would help him finally go back to seeing Peter as no one more than his mischievous Uncle who definitely wasn't sexy enough to melt metal.

If only things had been that simple. Kate wasn't who she purported to be, and she used Derek's secrets to destroy everything he held dear.

He'll never forget that night. He was with Kate in the back seat of her car, thinking that it was headed toward him losing his virginity. They made out, and then unbearable pain suffused through his entire body as his pack bonds broke one by one. Kate watched with an evil grin the entire time, until the only bond Derek had left was the one to Peter, meaning that Peter was the only one left alive.

"Have fun, Derek," Kate had sneered, reaching behind him for the door handle. She shoved him out of her car and peeled off, never to be seen or heard from again, and Derek was too mired in his shock to do anything but lie on the ground and shake.

Kate was a hunter, using him all along to get to his family. She was just distracting him that night so he wasn't home when her accomplices sent his house up in flames, orchestrating it all so he'd be the sole survivor and would have to live with the guilt of what he'd done.

Well, mission accomplished, Derek would say. He may not have lost his _entire_ family that night, but he lost enough—and in some ways, Peter still being alive is worse.

Derek turns away from the window to stare at the man lying still as a statue in the hospital bed next to him. "Uncle…" he whispers, a fist squeezing his heart as it always does whenever he looks at the state Peter is in now.

The fire left Uncle Peter with horrific burns all along the right side of his face and body, and he's completely unresponsive. He opens his eyes when he's awake and closes them when he's tired, but that's about the extent of his movements. The nurses who work in the hospital have to do everything else for him—wash him, feed him, keep his blood pumping so that Derek at least has _someone_ in his life. Even if that someone is just a shell. No one's really sure whether there's anyone still home. If, whenever someone talks to him, Uncle Peter ever hears any of the words.

There's an argument to be made—and which _has_ been made before—about why Derek is still keeping Uncle Peter alive in this state. It would be better to just let him go too, but Derek can't do that because it would mean he'd be well and truly alone, and he's just selfish enough to avoid that outcome.

Derek dropped out of high school and ghosted his friends after the fire, unable to keep himself going through everyday life when nothing seemed to matter anymore. He doesn't have a job either, but money's not an issue for him. He already has enough zeroes in his bank account, thanks to his inheritance and the insurance payouts from the house and his family's deaths. It's all tainted money, but at least it means Derek is free to do nothing with his days but spend them by Peter's side, torturing himself with memories and self-loathing thoughts.

He couldn't leave even if he wanted to, for two reasons:

One—Peter is now his Alpha, which means that, if he were to leave, he'd be an Omega and would eventually lose his mind. That's if he hasn't already.

Two—it would be running away again, and Derek is finished doing that. He'll face the consequences of his actions for as long as Peter remains with him, and then…maybe he'll follow.

Standing up, Derek approaches the bed and looks down at his Uncle, whose blue eyes stare unseeingly up at the ceiling.

"I wish I could take it all back," Derek whispers, taking Peter's hand in his. "God, I wish…I wish I'd just stayed and faced what was going on between us."

It's not the first time Derek has told his uncle his regrets, but it never gets any easier.

"If I'd just let you kiss me that day in the kitchen…"

Derek's lips tingle and his lower gut burns with desire as he pictures how it could have gone. They're both inappropriate feelings, but he's used to having them.

"I would've kissed you back, tasted your mouth." His voice is filled with longing. "Maybe you'd run your fingers through my hair and hold me close, like I was someone precious. Like I wasn't just a waste of space and air like I am now."

Derek sincerely believes that the air in his lungs is wasted even more on him that it would be on Peter.

"I guess it doesn't matter now. It's too late, and there's no way to go back and change things." Derek sighs and drops Peter's hand to head toward the door. "I'll be back tomorrow morning, okay?"

_Just like I am every day._

As Derek leaves, he doesn't notice Peter's fingers twitching atop the pale-blue bedsheets.

* * *

As his nephew exits the room, Peter's heart breaks for him.

It's only been a week since he's been able to hear and understand when Derek speaks to him, since he's been aware of his surroundings at all. He doesn't know how much time he spent lost to the world, drowning by himself as that horrible night played on a loop in his head. It must have been at least a couple years, judging from Derek's voice and face. The former is a bit deeper than Peter remembers it being before the fire, and his facial hair is now full, unlike the peach fuzz he used to grow.

When Derek spoke to him today, Peter wished he could get his body to obey him. What he wouldn't have given to be able to sit up, draw Derek into his arms and make the pain go away.

But no…his body was traitorous, has been ever since he return to coherency. No matter how much he tried to make his wish into a reality, the most he could do was twitch a muscle here and there—and Derek missed all of it, so he might as well have not moved at all. But it's still progress, Peter supposes, pushing down his frustration.

He'd just like said progress to happen quicker so he could allay Derek's guilt sooner.

As he lies in the quiet of his hospital room, Peter has nothing better to do than attempt more movement. It's mentally exhausting, but it'll be worth it when Derek finally sees that he's here. He's not gone.

If only Peter knew he didn't have to try so hard. All he had to do was wait three more days for the full moon to come.

* * *

The sun is descending in the sky when Derek considers leaving the hospital again. He can already feel the pull of the rapidly approaching full moon. It's like a lodestone, calling to him, telling him to let go, to be free, to unleash his inner bestial nature and hunt down some prey. He doesn't give into it, of course. At twenty, it's barely even a struggle anymore to resist his animal side, not like it was when his wolf first woke up after puberty hit him. He just sits in the same chair and watches the sky transform from light-blue, to orange, to red—and finally, to a blue so dark it's nearly black.

Stars shine in the sky, but the moon is the brightest thing there, huge and round and hauntingly beautiful.

Since he's alone with Peter, Derek allows his eyes to glow gold as he recalls more memories of better times. Times in which he ran with his family through the preserve, and Peter initiated chases with him.

For a while, he doesn't move a muscle, just tracks the moon as it slowly cuts a path through the darkness. But then he hears a sound behind him…

Whipping around, Derek leaps up from his chair and his mouth drops open out of shock as he takes in what's happening before him. Peter…he's actually moving. It can't be. Can it? Maybe Derek has finally gone crazy with grief, or he fell asleep and this is really just a dream, a cruel tease of what he wants and then it'll be yanked away from him when he wakes up again.

But no, pinching himself through the material of his red henley doesn't have any effect. Peter still has his hand pressed over his eyes, and he's still groaning quietly to himself.

"Uncle?" Derek dares to call out, his voice soft and timorous.

Peter goes still again, and then he lowers his hand back to the bed and meets Derek's gaze, his blue eyes filled with intelligence for the first time in four years.

"Derek," the older man rasps. The name is almost unintelligible, nothing more than a whisper of air, really, because it's been so long since he used his voice.

But Derek understands.

"Uncle," he says again, more confident now that this is reality. He walks toward the bed and stops right next to it, taking Peter's hand in his like he did three days ago. "You're actually awake."

Peter nods stiffly. "So it would seem."

Again, his voice is barely there, so Derek retrieves the bottle of water he got himself earlier, unscrews the cap and holds it to Peter's lips. "Drink slow," he instructs.

He's unable to tear his attention away from Peter as he drinks, as his Adam's apple bobs up and down beneath the day-old stubble on his neck. He's never seen a better sight or heard a better sound, and if it weren't so uncharacteristic of him—and if it weren't still up to him to hold the bottle steady—he'd jump up and down for joy.

When Peter finishes drinking and rests his head back against the pillow, he peers up at Derek with a strange expression on his face. "How long has it been?" he enquires, his voice a bit better now. It's still rough from disuse, but it's more like Derek remembers.

Derek answers the question and drags his chair closer so he can sit down.

"Wow…" Peter blinks, amazed. "No wonder I feel so rough."

"Why now?"

"Hmm?"

"I mean, why are you suddenly awake now?" Derek clarifies, unable to help his curiosity. He knows he should get a nurse or a doctor, but he doesn't. He's unwilling to give up this little bubble of privacy he has with his Uncle.

"I don't know." Peter ponders the query for a moment. "If I had to guess, I'd say it's because this is the first full moon since I've been awake, and it finally kickstarted the healing process."

Derek frowns, bemused. "Since you've been awake? But…you just woke up a few minutes ago."

"I mean it's the first full moon since I've been aware of my surroundings again. It's only been just over a week."

Derek's frown morphs into wide eyes. Spending that long not being aware of what's going on…he can't even imagine. Then another thought occurs to him. "So, you uh…you heard what I said to you, then?"

Peter's alluring lips curl upward into the smirk that Derek has so missed. "You mean about you wishing you'd stuck around for my kiss on your birthday? Yeah, I heard."

"Oh."

Derek looks down at his lap, embarrassed to have been that vulnerable. He also doesn't know how to react now that Peter's finally with him again, now that they're actually being forced to address their feelings for each other.

It was easier when he thought he was in private.

"Look at me, Derek," Peter entreaties.

Derek can do nothing but comply, raising his gaze back to his Uncle's. "What?"

"Come here."

Derek's hands curl into fists when Peter shuffles sideways on the bed, right up to the edge, and lifts the sheets. "You want me to get in there with you?" he asks. Surely not.

"Exactly." Peter arches an eyebrow expectantly. "I think we both need it, don't you? Don't make me use an Alpha command on you."

Against his better judgment, Derek stands from his chair and, when Peter tells him to, he removes his shoes, socks and jeans, leaving himself dressed only in his henley and a pair of black boxer-briefs. He climbs onto the bed with caution, afraid of doing anything to hurt his Uncle, but Peter doesn't have any of that. As soon as Derek is close enough, the Alpha grabs his wrist and drags him closer, leading Derek to curl into his side and rest his head on Peter's chest. It's weird at first; he hasn't slept next to Uncle Peter since he was a little kid, when they used to watch movies together and he'd fall asleep with his head on the older man's shoulder. But when Peter lays the sheets over him and Derek feels his hands carding through his hair, soothing him, he relaxes into it.

"Nice, isn't it?" Peter murmurs.

"Mmm…"

"I'll take that as a yes."

"What if someone comes in?"

"It's perfectly innocent," Peter assures him, the smirk back in his voice. "If they do, they'll find out I'm functioning again and assume you just wanted comfort."

"As simple as that, huh?" Derek listens to the heart beating beneath his ear. It lulls him into shutting his eyes, years of grief catching up to him. "Peter…"

"Shh, just sleep, Derek," Peter says, pressing his lips to the Beta's forehead. "We'll talk more after you've had a nap, when the shock isn't so fresh."

"Okay."

In the next minute, Derek drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

When Derek rouses, he's disoriented. He's in bed, but he doesn't remember going home last night—and he _definitely_ doesn't remember bringing anyone with him. Lifting his head, he surveys his surroundings and is bemused when he sees the familiar walls of Peter's hospital room.

So he _didn't_ leave last night. Then who's—

"Rise and shine," comes a voice right next to his ear, making him jump.

Derek looks down and is swiftly awoken the rest of the way when he finds Peter looking back up at him with a grin. "It wasn't a dream," he breathes.

Peter's grin stretches wider. "Nope. Not a dream. Your favourite person's really alive and kicking again."

Derek sits up properly and, with a glance at the window, determines that it's still nighttime. He mustn't have been asleep for long, but he feels surprisingly well-rested—better rested than he has since he was sixteen. He almost forgot what it felt like for his bones themselves not to weigh him down.

"So, before we discuss anything else, I think we need to leave," Peter says, sitting up too.

"Huh?" Derek's eyebrows rise on his forehead. "But shouldn't we let someone know you're awake? If you just disappear…"

"Look at these, nephew," Peter says, pointing to the scars on the side of his face. "Now that I'm back, my healing's already kicking in."

Derek leans in to inspect Peter's scars and, yup, they're already less severe than they were before he fell asleep. As time goes on, they'll only get better, until Peter's skin is as perfect and unblemished as it was before the fire. His Uncle has a point—if a nurse comes in and suddenly sees that Peter is scar-free, they're going to have questions that neither Peter nor Derek will be able to answer. Best to get out now, while it's still dark and there are fewer people around.

"Uhh…how should we do this?" he asks. It feels good to defer to his Alpha now that he actually can.

"D'you have any spare clothes? I'd rather not risk flashing someone my ass in the parking lot."

Of course, the mention of his uncle's bare ass causes Derek to picture it, his face flushing.

Peter chuckles. "Naughty boy. Stay on track. You can think about my _spectacular_ ass later, when we're out of here."

"Shut up." Derek clears his throat, pushing through his embarrassment. "I've got some gym clothes in the trunk of my car—or Laura's car. I kept driving it…after."

"The Camaro your parents got her for her eighteenth?"

Derek nods.

"Nice. I always liked that car. Your Mom had good taste, at least from time to time."

"Should I go get them?"

"Yes." With a groan, Peter stands from the bed and stretches, working out the kinks he must have from lying in the same bed for four years. "I'll change, and then we'll sneak out of here. I've always enjoyed doing things I'm not supposed to."

When Peter winks at him, obviously referring to _them_, Derek smiles tentatively. He puts his jeans and shoes back on and picks up his leather jacket from the chair he's used for so long it almost feels like it belongs to him too. "I'll be back, then."

"Be quick."

* * *

Half an hour later, Derek pulls up outside of the house he's been living in since he was eighteen. It's not as big as his family's house was, but it's home, and it's still more than comfortable for two people. And isn't that a thought? He has his Uncle in the passenger seat next to him, wearing his gym shorts and tank top, and he's going to be living with him for at least the foreseeable future. Possibly forever, if Derek has anything to say about it. He won't say it because he's not brave enough, but if Peter gets other plans or ever wants to move out of Beacon Hills, Derek will go too.

"Nice place," Peter says as he opens the passenger door of the Camaro. "Is it yours?"

Derek gets out too and leads the way up the front path. He takes his keys out of the pocket of his jacket. "Yeah, it bought it outright as soon as I could."

Once they're inside and the door has been locked behind them, Derek gives Peter a small tour of all the rooms. First comes the ground floor, which contains the living room, kitchen, pantry, dining room and utility room. There's not much to look at, not many personal touches, mainly because they lost nearly everything in the fire and Derek hasn't really been living since he bought the place.

On their way to the first floor, Derek points out the door on the side of the staircase which leads down into the basement. "I've got a home gym set up down there."

"I'll have to use that later," Peter says. "Gotta get back into shape."

Derek scans his uncle's body, particularly his bare arms, and doesn't think the older man really needs to.

The tour of the first floor is shorter, since it just consists of a master bedroom, bathroom and two spare bedrooms that are completely empty.

"And that's it. This is home," Derek says as they reenter the hallway, closing the last door behind them.

"I'm definitely going to do some redecorating, but I like it," Peter opines. "You did good, nephew."

Derek wasn't consciously after Peter's approval, but somewhere deep down he must have been desperate for it because the praise makes his toes curl. "Thanks."

"Are you still tired?"

Derek checks in with his body. "Not really. I'm too worked up to sleep again yet."

"Me too."

"I _am_ hungry, though."

"Let's see what food you've got, then."

Before Derek can warn him, Peter is already halfway down the stairs and moving fast. He hurries to catch up to him and enters the kitchen just in time to witness Peter open the fridge door, and then the cupboards.

"There's barely anything here," Peter says incredulously. He shuts the cupboard and crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at his nephew, biceps bulging.

"Uhh, yeah. I'm not ever really here for very long."

"Why not?"

"Oh, I dunno." Derek's tone is full of snark. "Maybe because I've spent every day for the past four years sitting at your bedside."

Peter's disapproval becomes tinged with sadness. "That's not much of a life."

"Yeah, well, it didn't feel right being away from you. Sue me."

Peter walks around the island and puts his hands on Derek's shoulders. Even though Derek is an inch or two taller, he feels incredibly small with Peter looking at him again. In the best way possible.

"Well, starting now, that changes," Peter asserts. "And it's non-negotiable."

"What changes?"

"You not taking care of yourself. I understand why you did it, and if the positions were reversed, I'd probably be the same way, but I'm okay now. It's time for you to actually start living again, and I'm gonna help you."

Derek is speechless. All he can do is nod.

"Good boy."

Fuck! When Peter calls him that…

"Ah, you like that, do you?" Peter observes, perceptive as ever.

"Y-yeah."

"Well be prepared to hear it a lot more. I've gotta erase all those dark feelings I'm sure have been festering inside you while I was gone."

"Uncle…"

Derek goes quiet again as Peter gently pulls him down and plants a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"Since our kitchen's empty, we can order pizza for tonight and go grocery shopping in the morning," Peter suggests, releasing Derek. He walks them both back into the living room and drapes himself across the sofa, his legs wide apart. Even from a glance, it's obvious that Peter is going commando beneath Derek's gym shorts. "While we eat, you're going to tell me everything I missed."

Derek gets his phone out of his jeans pocket. He has the number for his favourite pizza place saved in his contact list. "Alright. What kind?"

"You know I love _meat_, nephew," Peter replies, running his eyes up and down Derek's body as if he'd like to devour him instead.

"You're terrible."

"And proud of it. Now get dialling. I haven't had solid food in four years. Chop chop."

With a roll of his eyes, Derek turns away to hide his smile because, god, has he missed this. He missed Peter's sass and his strange comfort and just having a proper conversation again with someone he actually cares about.

With Peter back with him, it feels like he might actually have a chance to be happy.

* * *

The sun is coming up when Peter decides it's time for them to turn in.

For the past few hours, Derek and Peter sat on the sofa and talked about pretty much everything while they stuffed their faces with three large meat feast pizzas. Peter ate two of them all by himself, so he really must've been hungry. Derek guesses that's to be expected, and that it's lucky Peter is an Alpha werewolf, otherwise they'd have had to start things much slower to get his stomach used to food again.

He allows Peter to have the first turn in the bathroom so he can shower off all the time he spent in the hospital. While he waits for his own turn, Derek rummages through the closet in the master bedroom for some clothes for both of them to wear to bed—the same bed, because the king-size behind him is the only one in the house, and he's not subjecting Peter to the sofa downstairs. He could take it himself, sure, and let Peter sleep in the bed alone, but Derek doesn't want that either. The small taste he got back at the hospital of what it's like to sleep next to his uncle wasn't nearly enough. Derek craves more, both the wolf and human sides of him.

He needs to feel his Alpha's arms around him, holding him close, making him feel safe and _wanted_. It's been a long time since anyone made him feel like that.

By the time he hears the shower shut off and the bathroom door open a minute later, Derek has selected two pairs of sweatpants. Nice and simple.

When Peter appears in the bedroom doorway, Derek opens his mouth to ask him if he had a nice shower, but the words get stuck in his throat because his uncle is completely naked. From the expression on Peter's face, he knows just what his nudity is doing to Derek. This was likely his plan all along, to taunt Derek like this.

What a bastard.

Peter has a towel in his hand, rubbing it against his head to dry his hair as much as possible. Derek tries to keep his attention up there, but…he can't. He's powerless to resist the lure of all that skin.

Peter's body is perfect, even with the still-fading burns. He's not quite as toned as he was four years ago, his abs not as defined, but that's not to say he doesn't still have muscle. Boy, does he ever. Another benefit of being a werewolf while bedridden is apparently very little loss of muscle mass.

Derek licks his lips as he stares at Peter's chest. His right pec is heavily scarred, while the unburned one is covered in fine, brown hair that he always used to wax off. Derek prefers how it is now. Peter's nipples are pebbled and suckable, and thanks to the arm he still has raised to finish drying his hair, Derek's eyes are drawn to his armpit. He wants to stick his nose in there and breathe in his uncle's pure scent.

Lower down, a trail of hair leads from Peter's navel to his pubes. They're coarse and untrimmed, another place Derek wants to get his nose.

From there, Peter's cock hangs low, generous even while soft. His balls are proportional, big and weighty, filled to the brim because it's been years since he last had an orgasm.

"See something you like, nephew?" Peter enquires, radiating smugness.

"You could say that," Derek answers huskily, his gaze still glued to his uncle's crotch. He almost drools when Peter walks toward him and that gorgeous uncut cock swings back and forth between his thighs.

"It's your turn in the shower," Peter says, leaning in so that their faces are inches apart. "Want some help?"

Derek holds back a whimper. "N-no, I think I can do that myself."

"Alright. I'll just be here." Peter throws the towel aside and drapes himself across the bed, tucking his hands behind his head. "Waiting."

"I…I put out some sweats for you," Derek says, pointing to the two pairs on the end of the bed.

"I'll pass. I prefer to sleep naked."

Derek can't hold back the whimper this time. "You're gonna kill me."

"What a way to go."

With a huff, Derek puts one pair of sweats back in the closet and takes the other with him to the bathroom. The room is still steamy from Peter's shower, and in the fogged-up mirror, there's a big, winking smiley face that Peter must have drawn right before he left. Derek shakes his head with fondness before starting the shower up again. He divests himself of all his clothes and steps inside the stall.

Ordinarily, Derek would take his time washing himself, often spending several minutes just stood still as the warm water sluiced down over his body. But today, he's in a rush, grabbing his unscented body wash and cleaning himself in record time because he doesn't want to be away from Peter any longer than he has to. His inner wolf is continuously whining to get back, lest something else happen to his Uncle while he's gone.

In total, Derek is only in the shower for three or four minutes before he steps back out and dries himself off with a large, fluffy towel. Before he returns to the bedroom, he picks up his sweats and ponders the merits of putting them on.

Or should he go naked and let Peter see him too?

Derek puts the sweats down next to the sink and opens the bathroom door, peeking his head around it as if he's expecting Peter to be waiting for him right outside. Peter isn't, of course, and Derek is aware of this because he can hear his uncle humming to himself back in the bedroom. Derek can't help it, though. No one has seen him naked since he was a little kid, after his parents thought he was old enough to wash himself without supervision. Not even Kate ever saw him without a stitch of clothing on. The most she ever got was no shirt.

Swallowing tightly, Derek opens the bathroom door fully and walks down the hall to the master bedroom.

"I was wondering what was taking you so long," Peter says as soon as Derek's inside. He looks away from the ceiling to Derek, and his pupils dilate. "But it was worth the wait."

Derek approaches the bed his Uncle is still sprawled on, his confidence growing slightly. "You think so?"

"Definitely."

Just before he reaches the bed, Derek stops, his traitorous brain bombarding him with all the reasons he doesn't deserve to have this. "Are we really doing this?"

Peter sits up and pats the mattress, inviting Derek to get on too. "We don't have to."

Derek kneels next to him on the bed. In all the excitement of Peter finally being here again, he almost forgot to be sad. It doesn't feel right, like he's betraying his family's memory or something.

"Look at me," Peter commands, injecting his voice with Alpha authority.

Derek does so and finds blood-red eyes staring back at him. His own eyes glow old in response.

"Do you want to be with me?" Peter asks. "Properly, how both of us have always wanted?"

"I…I do," Derek confirms, thankful that Peter is taking charge because he wouldn't have the courage on his own. "I just can't stop feeling like I don't deserve to have you. It's because I ran from you that we're even here right now."

"That's true," Peter concedes, cupping the side of Derek's face in his hand. He rubs his thumb over the elegant slope of Derek's cheekbone. "But that doesn't mean you don't deserve to be happy. That _we_ don't deserve to be happy with each other."

"But Mom and Dad—"

"—Might not have understood, you have a point there," Peter interrupts. "But, as much as I hate to say it, they're not here. It's just us."

Derek clenches his jaw. "Yeah…"

"If they were still alive, I can't guess what their reactions might've been," Peter continues. "But I know they loved you, and Talia loved me, as much as I annoyed her. Once they saw that I made you happy—and I do, right?"

Derek gives a shaky smile. "Yeah," he croaks. It's the truth. Just being around Peter again is like a weight lifted off of his shoulders, a weight he's carried since he was twelve that only got heavier after the fire. Even if he doesn't feel he deserves to be relieved of it, he can't deny he wants to be.

"Then once they saw that," Peter says, smiling back now, "I'd like to believe they'd've come around. They might not have understood it, but I don't think they'd stand in the way. So, I'll ask you again: do you want to be with me?"

Surprising himself, Derek is the one to make the first move. He ignores all the voices in his head and captures Peter's lips in a kiss. To finally give in to his feelings for his Uncle after spending eight years denying them is indescribable. It's so _good_, especially when Peter begins to kiss him back, cupping his face with both hands now and tilting his head to get a better angle. Derek's blood rushes south as he parts his lips and Peter slides his tongue into his mouth, giving them both their first taste of each other.

Soon, Derek's cock is fully erect, and when Peter scoots closer and their hips connect, a frisson of arousal hits him because Peter is in the same boat.

"So perfect," Peter murmurs against Derek's lips.

Derek moans. "Uncle…"

"Such a good boy for your Alpha."

Derek's whole body shudders and his cock throbs. He's so turned on by Peter's words.

"That's it, nephew. Just let me take care of you."

The next thing Derek knows, he's on his back and Peter has insinuated himself between his legs, giving short thrusts to rub their cocks together. Peter leans over him and rests their foreheads together, staring down into Derek's eyes with so much desire, mischief and affection that Derek is rendered speechless. All he can do is stare back with his lips parted and his heart beating a mile a minute in his chest.

"Gonna fuck you, baby boy," Peter promises him, licking up the side of Derek's face.

Derek arches his back, overwhelmed. "Want you…"

"And you'll have me. From now until forever, I promise you that. Gonna take such good care of you."

Peter begins descending down Derek's body, worshipping everything within reach with his mouth. He starts with Derek's neck, nuzzling beneath the Beta's chin to suck marks into the sensitive skin there. Because he's an Alpha, Derek's healing won't kick in for some time, a fact that Derek is pleased about. He wants to wear Peter's marks—his claim—for everyone to see. To show himself off as Peter's.

It's just a fantasy, of course, because everyone in Beacon Hills knows who Derek and Peter are, knows they're related to each other, thanks to the infamy of the Hale Fire. Still, it's nice to think about.

Next, Peter moves to Derek's chest and draws one of his nipples into his mouth. He sucks on it, and then does it harder when Derek throws his head back on a choked moan, winding his hands through Peter's hair. It's longer than it used to be, giving Derek something to really hold on to as he's ravaged by the man he's wanted since he was a tween.

Peter torments his nipples for several long minutes, until the pleasure goes too far and the erect nubs are left swollen and sore.

"Beautiful," Peter whispers, kissing each nipple once before going even lower.

He dips his tongue into Derek's navel and then pauses for a few seconds with his nose in his nephew's dark pubes. He's loud as he breathes in deeply, inhaling the musk embedded in the coarse hairs, and then, without ceremony, he swallows Derek's seven-inch cock to the root.

"Fuck!" Derek cries out, bucking up into Peter's hot mouth. It's…Jesus, he can't even come up with an appropriate adjective.

"Has anyone ever done this to you before?" Peter enquires, releasing Derek's cock with a pop.

Derek shakes his head, breathing heavily. "N-no. M'a virgin."

"Excellent. I like that I'm the only one who's ever touched you here." Peter growls, a sound that fills the whole room. "Mine. All _mine_."

"Yours," Derek agrees enthusiastically.

"Turn over, sweet thing," Peter instructs, sitting back on his heels. "I wanna taste your pretty little hole."

Derek is clumsy as he obeys, nearly kicking Peter in the chest. Once he's lying on his front, his arms folded in front of him and his cheek resting atop them, he feels the bed shift behind him. Then, a second later, Peter's hands are on his ass cheeks, spreading them apart, and warm breath fans out over his virgin hole.

"Uncle, please," Derek whines, pushing back in an effort to get Peter's mouth on his most intimate place.

"I'm here," Peter reassures, squeezing Derek's cheeks. He must have a tenuous control over his wolf right now; his claws are out, pricking the supple flesh, just shy of piercing it.

Before Derek can complain again about his uncle taking too long, he feels something warm and wet swirling over his furled rim, making him moan. Peter's tongue. He's actually got his uncle's tongue on his hole, licking over him like he's the tastiest delicacy in the world. Derek muffles his next few moans in his arms as Peter gives him his first rimming—the first of many, he hopes. He doesn't ever want to give up this feeling, especially when Peter wiggles the tip of his tongue against his opening and he relaxes enough to let him inside.

This is what he's been missing all these years:

This closeness.

This pleasure.

This is what he foolishly denied himself. He could've been having this for years, and his family would also still be alive—

_No! Don't think about that,_ Derek chides himself. This is good. This is too good to be tainted by such negative thoughts.

"So good for me," Peter says against his ass. "Such a tasty little hole. And this is all mine too, isn't it?"

The hairs on Derek's arms stand on end. "Yours," he says again. He loves how possessive his Uncle is getting with him.

Once Peter ceases rimming his nephew, he reaches for the top drawer of the nightstand and takes out the half-empty bottle of lube Derek keeps there. It's for the rare occasions his sexual frustration becomes too much and he just _has_ to rub one out.

"How'd you know?" Derek asks curiously.

"I explored a bit while you were in the shower." Peter waggles his eyebrows. "We'll need a lot more of this, let me tell you."

Derek peers up at him as he pumps some lube out onto his palm. "Really?"

"Yup. You'll be lucky if I let you leave this bed once in the next month," Peter growls, his eyes red and his teeth becoming sharper. "I'm gonna spend as much time as I can inside this tight ass of yours."

When Peter inserts a finger into his body, Derek involuntarily goes rigid, clenching his hole up tight. Peter coos at him and strokes his other hand down Derek's back, coaxing him to relax again so that he can thrust his finger in and out and stretch him for his cock. Derek works on taking long, deep breaths to release the tension from his muscles, and after a short while, he goes lax atop the bedding and his hole loosens around Peter's finger, allowing him to proceed with the prep.

Derek likes this sensation. He doesn't exactly feel pleasure, but the act of having Peter's thick finger sliding in and out of him is pleasant in and of itself. But then Peter crooks his finger and hits something inside of him that lights him up, has his vision obscured by fireworks.

"Peter!" he gasps, clutching his pillow tight enough that the seams nearly split.

"There it is," Peter says, his grin audible in his voice. "Your prostate. Feels good, doesn't it, baby?"

Derek gasps when Peter rubs again over the special bundle of nerves. "Y-yes!"

For the next few minutes, Peter uses Derek's prostate to distract him as he's stretched apart. Every time Peter inserts another finger and the discomfort creeps up on Derek, Peter'll spend as much time as the younger man needs paying attention to his prostate, until the discomfort is gone again.

It's a cycle as one finger becomes two, then three, and finally four.

"I think you're ready for me, baby boy," Peter says, withdrawing all four digits. "Turn back over. Wanna see your face while I'm inside you."

Derek is disappointed to be empty again, but he soothes himself with the knowledge that it won't be for long. He turns back over onto his back, spreads his legs like a slut and sucks in a sharp breath when his gaze lands for the first time on Peter's erect cock. Derek himself is bigger than average, an impressive seven inches, but he has _nothing_ on his uncle.

Peter's cock is at least nine inches, and it's almost as thick as a beer car. Derek's hole tightens up of its own accord as he thinks about taking such a monster.

"Will it fit?" he asks before he can think better of it.

"Oh, it'll fit," Peter swears, slicking himself up with a fresh pump of lube.

Derek is entranced, unable to stop staring as Peter's foreskin peels back from the fat head on every downstroke. And then, on every upstroke, the excess skin conceals the head all over again and wrinkles up, all shiny with a mixture of lube and pre-come that Derek wishes he could taste right this second.

Maybe later.

Peter chooses that moment to move forward on his knees and slide his arms beneath Derek's legs, the backs of Derek's knees slotting over his elbows as he leans down to kiss his nephew. Derek ends up practically folded in half and feels like a pretzel, but he can't complain because he can feel the thickness of Peter's cock between his ass cheeks. A tease.

"You ready for me?" Peter mumbles against Derek's lips, the first beads of sweat appearing on his brow.

"Yes," Derek says, projecting confidence into his voice. He's still worried about how Peter's going to fit inside him, but he places his trust in his Uncle.

In his Alpha.

"Good boy. Try not to clench up and ruin all my work."

With that request, Derek feels blunt pressure at his rim as Peter attempts to push the head of his cock inside. He fights to obey, to stay loose and live up to his Uncle's expectations for him. Disappointing his Uncle sounds like the worst thing in the world right now. It's anathema to him, against everything he is, so he forces his body to welcome the intrusion, even when it begins to hurt.

"So good for me, baby boy," Peter praises, peppering Derek's strained face with more kisses. "Just keep it up."

Derek can't even guess how much more of Peter's cock he has left to take, but it already feels like he's got a baseball bat shoved up his ass. Still, he doesn't get Peter to stop, just fists his hands in the sheets by Peter's knees and grits his teeth.

When, finally, his Uncle's hips rest against the curve of his ass cheeks, Derek lets out a breath he hadn't realised he'd been holding in. It's painful, his hole throbbing where it's clamped tight around Peter's considerable length, but he just focuses on the positives—how good it feels to have Peter inside of him, to be completely surrounded by him. There's no sense that isn't taken up by Peter's presence. He's all Derek can feel, all he can smell, can taste. And of course, his Uncle is all he can see, his handsome face looming above Derek's own, giving him a fang-filled grin.

It takes some time for Derek to acclimate to being filled to the brim like this, but when he is, he gives his Uncle a jerky nod and braces himself.

The first pull out is strange. It gives Derek the sensation of being hollowed out, and even though Peter's cock never leaves him entirely, just the majority of the shaft, Derek instantly misses it and wants it back. With the next few thrusts, he gets more and more used to it, and with another thrust that glances off his prostate, Derek is fully on board, yelling his pleasure as Peter fucks him in earnest, his heavy balls slapping against the top of Derek's ass cheeks. The bedroom is filled with the sounds of their fucking, their grunts and moans, and Peter's scent gets stronger above him, tinged with salt and musk as he sweats with the effort of maintaining his current pace.

Derek loves every part of it.

"Such an amazing hole!" Peter grits out, a word for each thrust. "_Mine_…"

There's that possessiveness again. It has Derek mewling and clutching at Peter's shoulders, holding on for the ride.

All too soon, Derek detects the familiar tingling in his lower gut and his balls draw up close to his body.

"I'm getting close," he warns his uncle.

"Me too. Been too long since I've fucked someone," Peter says, much to Derek's annoyance. He doesn't want to hear about any lovers Peter took before him.

His emotion must show on his face, because Peter chuckles. "Aww, does someone not like that?" he teases

Derek is the one to growl and feel possessive now. "No."

"Don't worry, nephew." Peter nuzzles his cheek. "This ass is the only thing I'm gonna be fucking from now on."

"Good."

"Now, I want you to come all over yourself for me," Peter orders, his red eyes boring down into Derek's.

When Derek moves a hand from Peter's shoulder and reaches between their bodies with the intention of finishing himself off, he's startled when Peter barks, "No!"

"But—" Derek tries, only to be talked over.

"Untouched," Peter asserts. "You'll come untouched!"

_Is that even possible?_ Derek wonders. "I've never done that before."

"You will today. I know you can, because I want you to and you're my good boy, aren't you?" Peter says manipulatively.

Derek gasps and puts his hand back on Peter's shoulder. "Y-yeah."

"Then be good for me and come!"

With another couple strikes to his prostate, Derek careens over the edge of the cliff. His cock jerks wildly between them as he comes untouched, painting them both with his seed. It goes on for ages, the most intense orgasm of his life. It's prolonged by Peter's unerring precision, hitting his prostate again and again as he fucks the life out of him, until Derek worries he might actually black out.

He doesn't, though, and soon he comes down from his high. The pleasure of being fucked turns uncomfortable as his body becomes over-sensitive, but Peter keeps going.

"Getting. Close!" the Alpha says, somehow amping up the pace even more.

Peter was right. Practically as soon as those words have left his Uncle's lips, it gets more difficult for Derek to take him to the hilt as the base of his cock grows.

"Gonna knot you," Peter tells him. "Make you mine!"

His Uncle is all wolf when he's this close to coming, and nothing Derek could say or do would get him to stop. So Derek just works on staying relaxed from his own orgasm and accepts it when Peter thrusts inside one last time and his knot engorges the rest of the way safely behind Derek's rim.

Peter howls as he fills his nephew up with his thick come, his head tossed back. He grinds his hips against Derek's cheeks, trying to get impossibly deeper, and then he fists Derek's hair in his hand, yanks his head to the side and sinks his fangs in the stretch of skin between Derek's neck and shoulder.

Derek screams. It's like hot needles digging into his flesh. The pain overrides all logic, so it takes him a few moments to realise what this is.

Peter is actually claiming him. Not just as a member of his pack—that was a given—but as his _mate_.

He's Peter's mate now. Now and always, because this bond is irrevocable until death.

Eventually, Peter removes his fangs from Derek's neck and licks over the wound he leaves behind. He licks up his nephew's blood and hums like it's actually tasty, and then he rolls them over so that he's on his back and Derek is lying on top of him, both of them still connected thanks to his knot.

Derek tucks his face into Peter's neck and basks in the afterglow, the pain of the bite mitigated by Peter's tongue. Deep inside, most of his pack bonds are still severed, hanging limp and lifeless, but the one that remains—his bond to Peter—is shining bright. It's not just the bond between an Alpha and a Beta. It's a bond of lovers. Of mates.

It almost makes Derek want to cry. He's not whole, not by a long shot, but some of the wounds he's been nursing all these years are now scabbed over, beginning to heal.

"My good boy," Peter whispers, running both hands up and down Derek's sweaty back.

Derek hums contentedly and his eyelids droop, the energy he had having been fucked out of him. "Uncle…"

"Go to sleep, nephew," Peter says as he continues to pump come inside him. "I'll still be here when you wake up."

"Better be."

Just before he goes under, the last thing Derek hears is Peter's voice right next to his ear:

"I'll always be here from now on, sweet boy. Always."

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this was something a bit different for me. After 5 years of writing nothing but Sterek, I had an idea for some Halecest and just couldn't let it go. After some major encouragement from a bunch of you to just go for it, here we are. \o/ For anyone who's concerned that I'm going to leave Sterek by the wayside, don't be. Sterek is still my OTP and will remain my main focus on this site. But, every now and then, I might come up with something different like this.
> 
> Stay tuned for my next PWP, in which Doms Derek and Peter have fun with Stiles, their sub.
> 
> **P.S. Don't forget to subscribe to me to be notified when my future fics go live, which will all be Sterek. And please check out my past fics if you haven't already and are interested.**


End file.
